On my reading list, I have finally come to Sherman Alexie, the Native American storyteller and writer. His voice is courageous and mesmerizing. Both The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, for young adult readers, and The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, a collection of short works, layer humor and heartbreak with extravagance and understatement.
Also, here's the podcast in which he talks about his experience moving between two cultures, which he describes as being like a job. He speaks in the context of going to high school off the reservation but continuing to live on the reservation. (It starts at about 29 minutes in.) "In the end, when you cross borders and boundaries, you end up becoming an alien in both worlds, and you end up having to really work hard in both places, and so it ended up feeling like a job."
I would add that it is sometimes possible to feel at home in each culture, just not fully. Actually, I think most people don't feel fully at home in their "home" culture, if they get beyond flag-waving and speak honestly. If you define "American culture" as "everything happening culturally in the U.S.," you've created a complex multifaceted shape. No one person could conceivably fit into it exactly. Same with "Canadian culture" -- two official languages, for starters.
But a sure way to see your "home" culture with new eyes is to move to a new one. And when you find a way to fit into the new culture, you have a new way to experience the feeling of "home." A new vocabulary.
Moving between the cultures of Canada and the U.S. is of course not as wrenching as moving between the Spokane Reservation and the dominant white culture of eastern Washington state. It's a different kind of cultural contrast, like the difference between night and...later that night.
Which is another example, albeit a trivial one. That last line -- the difference between night and later that night -- is from television. I was too young to understand the full range of angst on thirtysomething, and too old to be one of the Friends. Yet I own a Filofax in part because Ellyn gave one to Hope in a thirtysomething episode. From Friends, I know I appear as Monica but inside, I'm Phoebe. (And I know how to express a slight difference, between, say, a guy named Ross and a guy named Russ, or between aspects of Canadian culture and U.S. culture, from Friends.)
Although I don't fit exactly into either TV show's demographic, I can understand both. I move between them. I'm not fully at home in either, but I'm somewhat at home in each one.
The advantage of experiencing that alienation and hard work Alexie talks about (though the "hard work" of my privileged life was nothing compared to his experience) is that now I have two vocabularies with which to explain myself to someone. I have two vantage points from which I can examine (and experience) the world.
And being in both places lets me rest more easily in each one.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Real Life
As anyone who watches Stephen Colbert knows, there's Chaos in Chaonada because of the election.
It's interesting to follow election coverage on Twitter. You really do get a sense of the campaign world. Journalists are sequestered with candidates to travel all over the country; they have to find and file stories from veeerry scripted photo ops and canned announcements.
It's interesting, but in many ways, it's not real life. Not even for the journalists. Which is probably why it's interesting. (To watch, that is.)
Meanwhile, other political stuff is happening. The provincial fiscal year is starting soon, and a new budget was announced. Income tax season is here -- filing date is May 2, which happens also to be the date of the election. One might wonder whether the attention to personal income during the election will change how voters view the issues and thus influence how they vote.
But that assumes that regular people consider themselves to be voters. In the 2008 election, fewer than 60% of eligible voters did.
It's easy to think that political news is boring, that the rarefied air around candidates during an election separates "them," those politicians and journalists, from "us," the real people.
And sometimes, the scope of your world changes. It really does. Everything that's important to you is happening in just one hospital room, or just one uterus, or just one manufacturing plant (the one that happens to employ you), or just one University or Grade 5 classroom.
The thing is, what happens in those smaller spaces is still affected by what's said on those buses and planes, what's caught on camera and put online. All that political stuff is translated to policy, or isn't, and is included in the budget, or isn't, and then it affects "real life."
Access to pre-natal care, the cost of power to run a plant, the number of health professionals working in that one hospital room, the qualifications of person teaching in that classroom -- all are determined by stuff happening in politics.
Really: vote. It is "real life."
It's interesting to follow election coverage on Twitter. You really do get a sense of the campaign world. Journalists are sequestered with candidates to travel all over the country; they have to find and file stories from veeerry scripted photo ops and canned announcements.
It's interesting, but in many ways, it's not real life. Not even for the journalists. Which is probably why it's interesting. (To watch, that is.)
Meanwhile, other political stuff is happening. The provincial fiscal year is starting soon, and a new budget was announced. Income tax season is here -- filing date is May 2, which happens also to be the date of the election. One might wonder whether the attention to personal income during the election will change how voters view the issues and thus influence how they vote.
But that assumes that regular people consider themselves to be voters. In the 2008 election, fewer than 60% of eligible voters did.
It's easy to think that political news is boring, that the rarefied air around candidates during an election separates "them," those politicians and journalists, from "us," the real people.
And sometimes, the scope of your world changes. It really does. Everything that's important to you is happening in just one hospital room, or just one uterus, or just one manufacturing plant (the one that happens to employ you), or just one University or Grade 5 classroom.
The thing is, what happens in those smaller spaces is still affected by what's said on those buses and planes, what's caught on camera and put online. All that political stuff is translated to policy, or isn't, and is included in the budget, or isn't, and then it affects "real life."
Access to pre-natal care, the cost of power to run a plant, the number of health professionals working in that one hospital room, the qualifications of person teaching in that classroom -- all are determined by stuff happening in politics.
Really: vote. It is "real life."
Sunday, March 27, 2011
A Window
Canada's having an election. It's silly season up here. By mid-morning, the election was officially happening; by 2, we'd had a call about putting up a yard sign, out here in the boonies.
But here's something that's cool. This tool is a window into Canadian political parties: the VoteCompass survey. The developer, based on published statements from the political parties, has prepared sentences. You register how strenuously you agree or disagree with those statements. At the end, you can see which party your views are closest to.
The graph at the end is very interesting. Lots of options in the "socially liberal, politically liberal" quadrant. One in the "socially conservative, politically conservative" quadrant. The other two are empty of parties.
And yes you can take it even if you're not Canadian.
Watching the political theatre unfold over the last few days has erased, once and for all, the illusion that Canadians are polite -- unless Canadian politicians don't count.
It's one thing to know that your job may well end after the vote on the first Tuesday in November, 2012. It's another thing entirely to have all the other people you have been working with stand up and vote that you're impossible to work with. Then you have to go to the Governor General and admit as much. It seems a little humiliating.
Not that I feel sorry for the former Prime Minister. If you treat Canadians' elected representatives with contempt, and then demonstrate only bitterness and irritation for getting called out on it, you don't really care about the Canadian people. Saying that you do, no matter how many times you say it, doesn't make it true.
Too bad the humiliation hasn't taught him humility. Perhaps the voters will.
But here's something that's cool. This tool is a window into Canadian political parties: the VoteCompass survey. The developer, based on published statements from the political parties, has prepared sentences. You register how strenuously you agree or disagree with those statements. At the end, you can see which party your views are closest to.
The graph at the end is very interesting. Lots of options in the "socially liberal, politically liberal" quadrant. One in the "socially conservative, politically conservative" quadrant. The other two are empty of parties.
And yes you can take it even if you're not Canadian.
Watching the political theatre unfold over the last few days has erased, once and for all, the illusion that Canadians are polite -- unless Canadian politicians don't count.
It's one thing to know that your job may well end after the vote on the first Tuesday in November, 2012. It's another thing entirely to have all the other people you have been working with stand up and vote that you're impossible to work with. Then you have to go to the Governor General and admit as much. It seems a little humiliating.
Not that I feel sorry for the former Prime Minister. If you treat Canadians' elected representatives with contempt, and then demonstrate only bitterness and irritation for getting called out on it, you don't really care about the Canadian people. Saying that you do, no matter how many times you say it, doesn't make it true.
Too bad the humiliation hasn't taught him humility. Perhaps the voters will.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Attentive Electorate
Such doings in Canadian politics! Or maybe not.
The House finds the Harper Government in contempt of Parliament. This seems to be the official version of a head-shaking finger-wagging "tsk tsk," because it doesn't launch any other action. Rather like the non-governmental fallback, the sternly worded letter.
Or, I guess, a censure of a President in the U.S.
And then, the Harper Government proposed a budget that nobody likes. It sure seems like this government is no longer functioning with any pretense at effectiveness.
Still, an election is not absolutely positively certain. More meetings this week. Motions put forward. Votes. Amendments. Et cetera.
This household would probably qualify as "moderately interested" in Canadian federal politics. And here's the conversation during Peter Mansbridge's live interview last night with Finance Minster Jim Flaherty about the budget.
In this upcoming election (maybe! or just more finger-wagging!), half of this household will vote. Given the calibre of attention to the issues evident in the conversation above, what are the chances that the Canadian government will look radically different after the dust (maybe!) settles in some ten or so weeks?
Yep. We can, however, hope that they'll take care of the noodle issue.
The House finds the Harper Government in contempt of Parliament. This seems to be the official version of a head-shaking finger-wagging "tsk tsk," because it doesn't launch any other action. Rather like the non-governmental fallback, the sternly worded letter.
Or, I guess, a censure of a President in the U.S.
And then, the Harper Government proposed a budget that nobody likes. It sure seems like this government is no longer functioning with any pretense at effectiveness.
Still, an election is not absolutely positively certain. More meetings this week. Motions put forward. Votes. Amendments. Et cetera.
This household would probably qualify as "moderately interested" in Canadian federal politics. And here's the conversation during Peter Mansbridge's live interview last night with Finance Minster Jim Flaherty about the budget.
R: Does he [Flaherty] look funny to you?
M: Well, he's orange. See how orange? And now, how blue Peter Mansbridge looks? Wow, I hope they switch back and forth again. Look at that: Orange. Blue. Orange. Geez.
R: It's not just that. It's his hair.
M: He's wearing a ton of makeup.
R: But doesn't it look like he's wearing black-and-silver noodles on his head?
M: Yeah. Eww. Hey, did he say anything?
[crickets]
In this upcoming election (maybe! or just more finger-wagging!), half of this household will vote. Given the calibre of attention to the issues evident in the conversation above, what are the chances that the Canadian government will look radically different after the dust (maybe!) settles in some ten or so weeks?
Yep. We can, however, hope that they'll take care of the noodle issue.
Monday, March 21, 2011
A Boot? A Boat?
Everybody knows Canadians say "aboot" for the word "about." Well, at least all Americans who have seen Bob and Doug McKenzie know that.
But wait! From a fascinating blog that looks at all kinds of accents comes the assertion "Canadian Raising: Nobody Says Aboot."
I suspect it's dangerous to say that "nobody" says "aboot." However, it's obviously accurate to say that "not all Canadians" say it. And possibly more Canadians don't than do.
Similarly, not all Americans say "y'all" and "all y'all," even though they are extremely useful as gender-neutral ways to convey "you guys."
But hey, what a site! He has clips of Canadians speaking and everything! And introductory material explaining the International Phonetic Alphabet! And maps of accents!!! Go look, but beware: Hours of procrastination ahead!
But wait! From a fascinating blog that looks at all kinds of accents comes the assertion "Canadian Raising: Nobody Says Aboot."
I suspect it's dangerous to say that "nobody" says "aboot." However, it's obviously accurate to say that "not all Canadians" say it. And possibly more Canadians don't than do.
Similarly, not all Americans say "y'all" and "all y'all," even though they are extremely useful as gender-neutral ways to convey "you guys."
But hey, what a site! He has clips of Canadians speaking and everything! And introductory material explaining the International Phonetic Alphabet! And maps of accents!!! Go look, but beware: Hours of procrastination ahead!
Friday, March 18, 2011
Science: Scary or Cool?
Initial answer: Both, but learning science lets you focus on the cool while being appropriately cautious.
For example, Japan and the nuclear plant and all the questions about radiation are easy to classify as "scary." Part of the fear is the "not knowing"--first, not knowing whether you can trust information that comes from the people responsible for accident in the first place.
But the phrase "radiation exposure" itself sounds scary, scarier than it really is. Yes, in some situations, radiation exposure can be dangerous. Safe nuclear energy requires good reactor design, trained specialists, and safe work practices. But not all radiation exposure is lethal. All of us are exposed to radiation every day from the sun.
The fear is unwarranted, but it's also not news. Science literacy has never been strong among the American public, and I daresay "the average Canadian" is not necessarily better informed.
Learning science is definitely NOT scary. Learning anything new is a challenge, but that's not the same as scary. It's entirely possible for average, everyday people to learn about radiation. Yes, even you!! The International Atomic Energy Agency, for example, has very readable udpates and explanations about the situation in Japan.
When you start to pay attention to stories about science, you get to learn about really cool things, like this: A NASA spacecraft is now orbiting Mercury. Mercury has its Sputnik! MSNBC's article about it is here.
And then you can learn about connections between stories. For example, astronauts outside the earth's atmosphere have less protection from the sun's radiation. That's one reason why "unmanned," meaning "without personnel of any gender," spacecraft do so much of the exploration work in the solar system. Here's a page of articles with keywords "radiation" and "safety" from the nasa.gov site. You can see from these stories how NASA has always tried to take appropriate precautions to shield its astronauts.
Which is what we can all do: learn and then take appropriate precautions.
So, the original question needs to be reframed, because here's the answer. Life can be scary. Science can help us rachet down the fear and teach us really cool things.
And that's what we can hang onto during these times when all the stories seem to be about crises.
For example, Japan and the nuclear plant and all the questions about radiation are easy to classify as "scary." Part of the fear is the "not knowing"--first, not knowing whether you can trust information that comes from the people responsible for accident in the first place.
But the phrase "radiation exposure" itself sounds scary, scarier than it really is. Yes, in some situations, radiation exposure can be dangerous. Safe nuclear energy requires good reactor design, trained specialists, and safe work practices. But not all radiation exposure is lethal. All of us are exposed to radiation every day from the sun.
The fear is unwarranted, but it's also not news. Science literacy has never been strong among the American public, and I daresay "the average Canadian" is not necessarily better informed.
Learning science is definitely NOT scary. Learning anything new is a challenge, but that's not the same as scary. It's entirely possible for average, everyday people to learn about radiation. Yes, even you!! The International Atomic Energy Agency, for example, has very readable udpates and explanations about the situation in Japan.
When you start to pay attention to stories about science, you get to learn about really cool things, like this: A NASA spacecraft is now orbiting Mercury. Mercury has its Sputnik! MSNBC's article about it is here.
And then you can learn about connections between stories. For example, astronauts outside the earth's atmosphere have less protection from the sun's radiation. That's one reason why "unmanned," meaning "without personnel of any gender," spacecraft do so much of the exploration work in the solar system. Here's a page of articles with keywords "radiation" and "safety" from the nasa.gov site. You can see from these stories how NASA has always tried to take appropriate precautions to shield its astronauts.
Which is what we can all do: learn and then take appropriate precautions.
So, the original question needs to be reframed, because here's the answer. Life can be scary. Science can help us rachet down the fear and teach us really cool things.
And that's what we can hang onto during these times when all the stories seem to be about crises.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The Complications and Connections of History
The pictures from Japan are shattering to look at. Those from the earthquake and tsunami are frightening enough. All physical signs of human habitation destroyed in a matter of seconds. The frailty of humans up against the power of nature. Et cetera.
And there are the nuclear plant explosions.
Broadcasters say things like, "Japan is the best-prepared country for handling a crisis like this," and "Of course Japan has extensive experience in rebuilding." I wonder how many Americans remember where that need for rebuilding came from, and how exactly we all know so much about the effects of radiation on the human body.
Further, I wonder how many Canadians know their own country's contribution to the development of nuclear weapons.
In 1998, Gordon Edwards wrote an anti-nuclear policy piece for the Montreal Gazette. It includes a brief summary of the work performed by Canadian scientists in Montreal during World War II. A link to it is here.
It's an excellent synopsis. Here are two relevant paragraphs:
My mother was one of those Canadian scientists. A mathematician with a Ph.D. from Radcliffe (the part of Harvard open to women at the time), she worked directly with researchers who went on to lead computing and theoretical groups at Los Alamos National Laboratory after the war.
Los Alamos--where both Fat Man and Little Boy grew up.
And, by the way, where you'll find Otowi Station Bookstore and Science Museum Shop, an excellent store with an extensive collection of books about history and science, as well as nice people and fun science toys. You should go there.
I am of course proud of my mother and her work. And it makes no sense to blame anyone now for the fact that we know so much about the effect of radiation on the human body.
At this point, we can apply what we have learned to fix the current situation. As the immediate crisis passes, we can also make sure we apply what we've learned so we can prevent nuclear accidents in the future.
And finally, we can dig through the butterflies-and-puppies, mushy elements of phrases like "we're all connected" to remember that in vital and direct ways, we really are all connected, in all our human frailty.
And there are the nuclear plant explosions.
Broadcasters say things like, "Japan is the best-prepared country for handling a crisis like this," and "Of course Japan has extensive experience in rebuilding." I wonder how many Americans remember where that need for rebuilding came from, and how exactly we all know so much about the effects of radiation on the human body.
Further, I wonder how many Canadians know their own country's contribution to the development of nuclear weapons.
In 1998, Gordon Edwards wrote an anti-nuclear policy piece for the Montreal Gazette. It includes a brief summary of the work performed by Canadian scientists in Montreal during World War II. A link to it is here.
It's an excellent synopsis. Here are two relevant paragraphs:
In 1942, the British moved their own plutonium-production research team to Montreal -- away from the Luftwaffe, closer to the Americans. Canada paid all expenses, and Canadian scientists joined the team.
The Montreal Lab focussed on the best ways to produce plutonium for Bombs. The French group was there too, with their heavy water. It was known that reactors moderated with heavy water would produce more plutonium.
My mother was one of those Canadian scientists. A mathematician with a Ph.D. from Radcliffe (the part of Harvard open to women at the time), she worked directly with researchers who went on to lead computing and theoretical groups at Los Alamos National Laboratory after the war.
Los Alamos--where both Fat Man and Little Boy grew up.
And, by the way, where you'll find Otowi Station Bookstore and Science Museum Shop, an excellent store with an extensive collection of books about history and science, as well as nice people and fun science toys. You should go there.
I am of course proud of my mother and her work. And it makes no sense to blame anyone now for the fact that we know so much about the effect of radiation on the human body.
At this point, we can apply what we have learned to fix the current situation. As the immediate crisis passes, we can also make sure we apply what we've learned so we can prevent nuclear accidents in the future.
And finally, we can dig through the butterflies-and-puppies, mushy elements of phrases like "we're all connected" to remember that in vital and direct ways, we really are all connected, in all our human frailty.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Healthcare: The Limits
One thing about healthcare in Canada. When what you have is a flu bug, or is possibly your body complaining vehemently about your devotion to dietary fibre (American: fiber), the healthcare system can't do anything for you.
Unless you count the fact that I could go to a walk-in clinic (or ER, if I were particularly worried) and find that out for free, without feeling stupid.
Well, then. I guess that's not nothing, after all.
Unless you count the fact that I could go to a walk-in clinic (or ER, if I were particularly worried) and find that out for free, without feeling stupid.
Well, then. I guess that's not nothing, after all.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Obscurity
How come I can labo(u)r away in obscurity but most of the people who belong here can't seem to find it?
I like obscurity, by the way. I have lived my whole life in Flyover Country, on both sides of the border, by choice (after the first 18 years). You can't get more obscure than that and stay on this continent.
In public life, the concepts of "shame" and "inappropriate behavio(u)r" seem to be disappearing. How come? They've served a useful purpose. Redemption stories can't exist without a fall from grace from which the protagonist has to recover. But it seems that today, people who misbehave, even criminally, are not allowed to fall.
Drunken, abusive actors may trip, but celebrity gossip outlets are right there to catch them and keep parading them in front of me--and I have only 2.5 channels on the TV. I don't look at online gossip. I'm relatively protected from the insanity, and I'm still overloaded!
It's not just celebrities. Politicians (on both sides of the border) are ever-more willing to tell whopping lies with a straight face, and idiots train cameras on them, and other idiots buy advertising. It's not just about media market share, though. In Canada's Question Period (no advertising, not a commercial venture), the bigger the lie, the more vociferous the defense. The volume is set at 11. Nobody blushes.
I don't get it.
Anyway, I'm starting a list of people who should join me in obscurity:
These people should all be banished.
Or maybe not.
Come to think of it, obscurity could become awfully crowded, and not with the kind of people I enjoy spending time with.
As you were. Strip off your undergarments (not the politicians, please!) and resume your lying, disdainful abuses of power. I'll just be over here, enjoying my elbow room.
I like obscurity, by the way. I have lived my whole life in Flyover Country, on both sides of the border, by choice (after the first 18 years). You can't get more obscure than that and stay on this continent.
In public life, the concepts of "shame" and "inappropriate behavio(u)r" seem to be disappearing. How come? They've served a useful purpose. Redemption stories can't exist without a fall from grace from which the protagonist has to recover. But it seems that today, people who misbehave, even criminally, are not allowed to fall.
Drunken, abusive actors may trip, but celebrity gossip outlets are right there to catch them and keep parading them in front of me--and I have only 2.5 channels on the TV. I don't look at online gossip. I'm relatively protected from the insanity, and I'm still overloaded!
It's not just celebrities. Politicians (on both sides of the border) are ever-more willing to tell whopping lies with a straight face, and idiots train cameras on them, and other idiots buy advertising. It's not just about media market share, though. In Canada's Question Period (no advertising, not a commercial venture), the bigger the lie, the more vociferous the defense. The volume is set at 11. Nobody blushes.
I don't get it.
Anyway, I'm starting a list of people who should join me in obscurity:
* any actor who invites the descriptor "bad boy"
* the former and present cast of Celebrity Apprentice (including the host/producer/progenitor)
* any person photographed not wearing appropriate undergarments
* any public figure who lies on purpose
* any politician who thinks he's smarter than anyone else he knows, especially if he isn't shy about showing his disdain
These people should all be banished.
Or maybe not.
Come to think of it, obscurity could become awfully crowded, and not with the kind of people I enjoy spending time with.
As you were. Strip off your undergarments (not the politicians, please!) and resume your lying, disdainful abuses of power. I'll just be over here, enjoying my elbow room.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Some Things Are Just Bad
And I don't want to write about them today.
But before I don't write about them, I have to say that governments in both the U.S. and Canada are on double-secret probation, as of this moment. Cut out the monkeying around with other people's jobs and livelihoods and make sure you're doing your own job. I just deleted examples because I really really don't want to write about them, but they're happening in the state of isconsin-Way, and all over the newly christened arper-government-Hay, the one that used to be Canada.
Pop culture is also full of dreadful things. I will refrain from making the obvious connections between Gadaffi and Lady Gaga. (You thought I was going to name a bad-boy actor, didn't you?) Because the imperiled fashion-impaired dictator is nothing to laugh about.
I also don't want to write about a former governor (male) who might or might not be taking potshots at another former governor (female) by forgetting the lessons of Dan Quayle and Murphy Brown to talk about a pregnant unmarried actor (female) whose uterus is NONE OF HIS BUSINESS, by the way, SHEESH.
See how good I am at not writing about those bad things?
But not writing about bad things leaves me staring out the window for something to say.
Thank goodness for wildlife. The ravens have started nesting on the cliff. I have no idea where they're finding nest materials, since the dead stuff is under a couple of feet of white stuff, but they are.
Spring must be coming.
And that's very good.
But before I don't write about them, I have to say that governments in both the U.S. and Canada are on double-secret probation, as of this moment. Cut out the monkeying around with other people's jobs and livelihoods and make sure you're doing your own job. I just deleted examples because I really really don't want to write about them, but they're happening in the state of isconsin-Way, and all over the newly christened arper-government-Hay, the one that used to be Canada.
Pop culture is also full of dreadful things. I will refrain from making the obvious connections between Gadaffi and Lady Gaga. (You thought I was going to name a bad-boy actor, didn't you?) Because the imperiled fashion-impaired dictator is nothing to laugh about.
I also don't want to write about a former governor (male) who might or might not be taking potshots at another former governor (female) by forgetting the lessons of Dan Quayle and Murphy Brown to talk about a pregnant unmarried actor (female) whose uterus is NONE OF HIS BUSINESS, by the way, SHEESH.
See how good I am at not writing about those bad things?
But not writing about bad things leaves me staring out the window for something to say.
Thank goodness for wildlife. The ravens have started nesting on the cliff. I have no idea where they're finding nest materials, since the dead stuff is under a couple of feet of white stuff, but they are.
Spring must be coming.
And that's very good.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Welcome, Here's Your Test
A recent story in the Globe and Mail, by the gifted and talented Joe Friesen, reports on a European survey of immigration policies. Thanks to new efforts to recognize immigrants' professional credentials, Canada now ranks "just short of the best in the world." How very Canadian (pre-podium-owning, of course).
According to the story, one area in which Canada could improve is in political engagement of immigrants--an odd area for Canada's political systems to overlook, because the story indicates that immigrants are known to be politically active.
While cruising around on the Citizenship and Immigration Canada site, I recently discovered that immigrants aged 55 and over are NOT required to take a citizenship test.
I've written before about citizenship and citizenship tests. And yes, I am on record as saying the discussion of the citizenship test on The Agenda was "yawn-inducing," and yes, I now wish I had paid closer attention to the issues. (Sorry, TVO!)
Because here's the real question about citizenship tests. What is the point?
Is it to ensure basic literacy about cultural and political customs and traditions? Okay: who needs this basic literacy--only immigrants, or everyone? Then why are only immigrants tested? You can say that people who grow up in Canada are tested as part of their experience in the school system, but not all participation in school is equal. (Some 48% of Canadians over the age of 16 don't demonstrate "desired" literacy levels for navigating life.)
Yet testing people before allowing them to enter polling booths is discriminatory, according to the US Voting Rights Act; tests kept African-Americans from voting for 100 years. But how far before an election is it OK to test people? Non-citizens are not allowed to vote in this country, so any test immigrants take will be, technically, before a vote.
A second question: Who gets to decide which cultural and political customs and traditions are tested? Are Canadians tested on persians as well as poutine and donair?
And are these tests educationally valid? Do these tests conform to known "best practices"? Can a kinesthetic learner choreograph and perform a dance to demonstrate the hundreds of federal ridings? Are visual learners encouraged to submit dioramas demonstrating their understanding of the role of the Queen in Canadian foreign policy?
Stepping back from the abyss of absurdity, it's still valid to recap this basic question from two years ago: How many current Canadian citizens can pass their test? (This goes for you, too, Americans.)
And now, the new wrinkle: new citizens over the age of 55 don't need to be tested. Why not? According to the Canadian Business online life expectancy calculator, if I were 55 (which I am NOT), all things remaining equal, I'll live to 85. (Note that none of the questions asked where I was born, which demonstrates either that immigrants can be expected to live about as long as Canadians born here, or that the magazine's test is limited.)
So, if I were to become a citizen at 55, I'd have 30 years of voting ahead of me. It would be good for Canada if I, too, had some basic understanding of this country I'm moving to.
If people over 55 are exempt from testing because of potential language difficulties and/or because learning new material is "hard"--well, what favours are you doing these people to expect less of them because they've lived X years? In fact, mental stimulation is still cited by the U.S. NIH as one way to stave off memory loss.
So wouldn't it make the most sense to require all Canadians over the age of 55 to to continue learning? But then we're back to testing everyone before voting.
Worst of all, I'm afraid I have only questions, no solutions. I do think people entering a country should demonstrate a basic knowledge of the country they're entering--but I believe those who live there should have that same basic knowledge. Yet it's discriminatory to deny citizens the right to vote based on the results of any kind of test.
I am also not convinced that citizenship tests are the best way for immigrants to demonstrate the desired understanding of their new country.
And I don't think that something magical happens in a brain at the age of 55 that should exempt people that age from having the basic knowledge required for citizenship.
So...what is the role of the citizenship test again? Never mind. I'll start studying.
According to the story, one area in which Canada could improve is in political engagement of immigrants--an odd area for Canada's political systems to overlook, because the story indicates that immigrants are known to be politically active.
While cruising around on the Citizenship and Immigration Canada site, I recently discovered that immigrants aged 55 and over are NOT required to take a citizenship test.
I've written before about citizenship and citizenship tests. And yes, I am on record as saying the discussion of the citizenship test on The Agenda was "yawn-inducing," and yes, I now wish I had paid closer attention to the issues. (Sorry, TVO!)
Because here's the real question about citizenship tests. What is the point?
Is it to ensure basic literacy about cultural and political customs and traditions? Okay: who needs this basic literacy--only immigrants, or everyone? Then why are only immigrants tested? You can say that people who grow up in Canada are tested as part of their experience in the school system, but not all participation in school is equal. (Some 48% of Canadians over the age of 16 don't demonstrate "desired" literacy levels for navigating life.)
Yet testing people before allowing them to enter polling booths is discriminatory, according to the US Voting Rights Act; tests kept African-Americans from voting for 100 years. But how far before an election is it OK to test people? Non-citizens are not allowed to vote in this country, so any test immigrants take will be, technically, before a vote.
A second question: Who gets to decide which cultural and political customs and traditions are tested? Are Canadians tested on persians as well as poutine and donair?
And are these tests educationally valid? Do these tests conform to known "best practices"? Can a kinesthetic learner choreograph and perform a dance to demonstrate the hundreds of federal ridings? Are visual learners encouraged to submit dioramas demonstrating their understanding of the role of the Queen in Canadian foreign policy?
Stepping back from the abyss of absurdity, it's still valid to recap this basic question from two years ago: How many current Canadian citizens can pass their test? (This goes for you, too, Americans.)
And now, the new wrinkle: new citizens over the age of 55 don't need to be tested. Why not? According to the Canadian Business online life expectancy calculator, if I were 55 (which I am NOT), all things remaining equal, I'll live to 85. (Note that none of the questions asked where I was born, which demonstrates either that immigrants can be expected to live about as long as Canadians born here, or that the magazine's test is limited.)
So, if I were to become a citizen at 55, I'd have 30 years of voting ahead of me. It would be good for Canada if I, too, had some basic understanding of this country I'm moving to.
If people over 55 are exempt from testing because of potential language difficulties and/or because learning new material is "hard"--well, what favours are you doing these people to expect less of them because they've lived X years? In fact, mental stimulation is still cited by the U.S. NIH as one way to stave off memory loss.
So wouldn't it make the most sense to require all Canadians over the age of 55 to to continue learning? But then we're back to testing everyone before voting.
Worst of all, I'm afraid I have only questions, no solutions. I do think people entering a country should demonstrate a basic knowledge of the country they're entering--but I believe those who live there should have that same basic knowledge. Yet it's discriminatory to deny citizens the right to vote based on the results of any kind of test.
I am also not convinced that citizenship tests are the best way for immigrants to demonstrate the desired understanding of their new country.
And I don't think that something magical happens in a brain at the age of 55 that should exempt people that age from having the basic knowledge required for citizenship.
So...what is the role of the citizenship test again? Never mind. I'll start studying.
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